To Miles, From Phoenix
by Lady Kasai
Summary: Phoenix decides to give Miles a token of his gratitude for defending him in class.


His shoes squeaked.

He wasn't sure why they squeaked on asphalt, but they squeaked. He was sure he looked pretty awkward clutching the tiny parcel between his hands like it was holy. His palms were sweating hard and he was trying to coach himself in breathing, but really, he probably just looked dumb.

It was a short walk from his house to the Edgeworths'.

He had never really known the other boy—well, he had never really known anybody. He tried to make friends all the time, but he wasn't very smooth at all. He wished he could be really cool like Miles was that couple days ago, but it never came to him.

He just fumbled and stuttered and eventually ended up running away.

Not this time, though.

The Edgeworths lived on the nicer side of town. The houses were a bit bigger and the yards were better kept, giving off the air of the upper class. His development was confusing and Phoenix had practiced the walk to their house a few times to make sure he wouldn't get embarrassingly lost when the day came. It was a modest gift; he couldn't afford much and would probably just end up making himself look even worse, given the look of the family's house.

He gulped.

There was a nice sidewalk leading to the wraparound porch, and his short legs strained to hit each cement segment only once. It was rumored within his class that if you stepped on a crack, you broke your mother's back, and given that his mom was all he had, he thought she might appreciate his courteous avoidance of cracks.

His shoes were still squeaky, so he tried very hard not to fidget after he rang the doorbell.

When the door opened, he was surprised to be staring at a pair of thighs. His eyes trailed up a pressed business suit to meet the eyes of who must have been Miles's father. The man was fierce, and practically a mountain, and Phoenix weighed the consequences of dropping the gift and running away as fast as he could.

"Can I help you?"

"I, um, I… I came to see if, um, Miles was here, please, sir."

A deep chuckle sounded as the man knelt to look Phoenix in the eye. "And who might you be?"

"My name's Phoenix, sir."

"Well, Phoenix, Miles is in his room right now. Why don't you come inside?"

He stood and motioned for the young boy to follow. Phoenix kicked his shoes off outside of the door and trailed after the man, feeling unbearably shy. The man's suit made him feel underdressed, and his hands clutched a bit tighter around his treasure.

"Miles is upstairs, first door to your left."

"Thank you, sir."

He followed the directions easily, marveling at the wide, carpet-clad staircase. There was a hallway at the top, lined with several closed doors. The first on his left was closed like the rest, but a strip of light peeked out at him from underneath. It was now or never, he told himself. Now or never.

He knocked quietly against the door. Seconds felt like hours to him as he waited, and he tried to be patient. Then it opened, and much to his dismay, his inner self came back again.

"Hello?"

"Hi, um, Miles." He drew on the carpet with his toes. "I hope I'm not disturbing you, but I wanted to come by and say thank you for the other day." His words were rushed and he hated himself for always sounding like such a dork. "I brought this over for you."

The young Edgeworth blinked, bewildered, as a tiny wrinkled envelope was thrust against his chest.

"It isn't much, but I wanted to give you something. I hope you like it." With that, he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment and turned to leave.

"Aren't you going to stay while I open it?"

"Well, I guess I could, I mean, I probably should, yeah…" He trailed off, feeling lame.

Miles laughed. "Come in here, and stop digging holes in our carpet."

Phoenix looked down to where he had shoved his toes into the plush material. Feeling quite sheepish, he walked into the other boy's bedroom and sat down on the bed. There was a large bookcase at the foot of the bed, and a desk at the window, but otherwise the room itself was decidedly…empty. It made his room look awfully messy in comparison.

The sound of wrinkling paper brought his attention back to its recipient, and while he sat there breaking a sweat, Miles struggled with the lumpy envelope. He supposed he may have over-taped it in his haste, but eventually the battle was won and the novice craft was removed from its confines.

"What's this?"

"It's a card. I didn't have any money to buy one, so I made it. I hope that's okay."

The card itself was a piece of notebook paper torn from his biology notebook. He had used his finger paints to draw a sloppy THANK YOU, MILES at the top, and a few macaroni noodles had originally formed a crude heart at the bottom, but were comically rearranged into an undeterminable shape. PHOENIX was detailed at the bottom in green.

"I'm…not sure what to say."

"Yeah, heh. Neither was I."

An awkward silence settled over them for a few moments before Miles got up from his chair. Phoenix was too busy staring at his feet to notice that he was being approached, but when a pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders, he looked up.

He was being hugged.

…Not punched!

He tentatively placed his arms around the other boy.

"You're…welcome, Phoenix. Just try to stay out of trouble, will you? My services don't come cheap, you know." He sniffed arrogantly and let go. "I mean, I _am_ the son of the best defense lawyer in the world."

Phoenix grinned. "Yeah, right, I bet _I _could beat him in court. Psh!"

"Oh, yeah right! You couldn't even beat _yourself_."

"Shut up!"

Downstairs, Mr. Edgeworth smiled to himself. His son had told him of his triumphant defense of Phoenix Wright in class. He was proud of his son for his legal savvy and held high hopes for him, even though he was still in the fourth grade.

Moreover, though, he was relieved to know that Miles had finally made a friend. Soon, he started into his work once more, and the thumping of their rambunctious wrestling soothed him as he scrutinized the text.

He had high hopes, indeed.


End file.
